Midnight Matings 13 Splash and Elegance (7 page)

Whitley’s phone began to ring before either of them could speak, and he dug it out of his pocket, connected the call, and pressed it to his ear. “Hey, Benny, are we ready?”

“We’ll be ready for takeoff in about forty minutes, Mr. Turner.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Whitley rolled his eyes and huffed. “Okay, we’ll be there in thirty.

Thanks for doing this, Benny.”

“It’s my job.” There was a little pause, and when his pilot spoke again, there was a smile in his voice. “You know I’m happy to help, Whitley. I’ll see you soon.”

Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Whitley looked up at the darkening sky, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I guess this is it.”

“Are you scared?”

It was a reasonable question, and Jude didn’t sound mocking at all. “A little, I guess.” He winked at his mate to lighten the mood. “It still beats the hell out of staying here and facing my mom.” Jude didn’t look very amused, though. “You’d rather fly across the country and risk possible bodily harm than have dinner with your family?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Chapter Six

“So, tell me about your brother.” Jude spoke of Carter as if he was a kid, which meant there had to be a huge age difference between them.

Jude sighed and settled farther down in his seat. “Carter is my half-brother. My mom died when I was nine, and Dad had another woman living with him a week after she was buried.” It was obviously a painful memory for Jude. Whitley leaned forward in his seat where he sat across from his mate, and took Jude’s hand in both of his own. “I’m sorry about your mom.” His relationship with his own mother could be described as strained at best, but the sadness in Jude’s voice said that hadn’t been the case for him.

“Thanks.” Jude squeezed Whitley’s hand a little and peered out the small, oval window. “There were a string of women in and out after that until he met Isa Gamble.”

“Gamble?” Whitley’s eyebrows drew together, and he flipped through his memories, trying to determine where he’d heard the name before.

“Yes, as in the daughter of Emmett Gamble, the elder that presides over the oceanic shifters.”

“I heard he took over for all the water-dwelling shifters—not just the saltwater variety.” It wasn’t the most helpful thing he could have said, but it was the first thing that popped into Whitley’s mind, and it just sort of tumbled out before he could stop it.

Jude only chuckled, though. “It could be. I don’t have any use for politics, so I tend to zone out when someone starts talking about it.”
His thumb idly moved back and forth across the side of Whitley’s hand, sending tingles up his arm. “Anyway, Isa doesn’t have much power, but her father does, so Dad was determined to hold on to her.

That didn’t stop him from keeping other mistresses on the side, however. I don’t know the whole story, and I don’t want to know.

About six months ago, this bright-eyed teenager shows up on our doorstep looking for his father. You could tell just by looking at him that he was my father’s son.”

“I imagine his wife didn’t take very kindly to that. How long have they been together?”

“Forty-two years,” Jude answered with a twisted grin. “And you’re right. Isa packed up and moved out the same day.”

“Why didn’t your dad just send Carter away? He obviously didn’t want him there.” Whitley had a feeling he knew the answer, though. It was all about power.

“My dad is nuts, okay? He’s also one of those people that never does anything wrong. If things don’t work out for him, it’s always someone else’s fault. Carter’s mom died last year, so he couldn’t blame her. That left Carter. In Reginald Chambers’ mind, Carter is the reason he lost Isa, or more to the point, the money and power she brought to the relationship.”

“I get it.” Whitley laced his fingers through Jude’s and brought their linked hands to his lips to brush a kiss over Jude’s knuckles.

“We’ll get him out of there.” Something Jude had said earlier came back to him. “If Carter has been there for less than a year, why couldn’t you ever leave?”

“Carter isn’t the only one who depends on me. Cara has been like a mother to me for most of my life. The rest of my dad’s staff is more of a family to me than he ever was. I have enough money to take care of myself, but I can’t keep all of those people fed and clothed on my own. I figured the least I could do was stick around and run interference with my father.”
“You’re a good man with a big heart. There’s no shame in that.

Maybe you don’t have to bear all the responsibility, though.” It sounded like an enormous burden to Whitley, far too much for one man to shoulder.

“Well, I have you now, don’t I?” Jude winked before releasing Whitley’s hand, settling back in his seat, and closing his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Whitley didn’t either, especially if that “anyone” was him. “Do you have a plan, or are we just going to show up and kind of wing it?” He liked to have his ducks lined up all nice and neat, but he didn’t have a clue where to start with this one.

“We’ll wait until my dad is out of the house.” Jude opened his eyes and looked at Whitley seriously. “After that, it’s just a lot of luck.” He sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Do you know anything about those cells that your dad builds?”

“Carter is in a cell?” Whitley asked in shock.

Jude nodded, studying him carefully. “It’s a portable cell, more like a big cage in the middle of a room.” Whitley nodded slowly. “Yeah, I can help with that.”

“Training to take over the family business?” Jude asked with a smirk.

“Not exactly.” Whitley bit his lip and looked away. What good would it do to tell Jude that he was actually the one to design the cells and his father only built them? No one had ever believed him, and after a while, he just quit trying to convince them.

“Well, I’ll appreciate any help you can give me.” Jude shifted around in his seat and closed his eyes again. “Wake me up when we get close.”

Whitley had more questions he wanted to ask, but he kept them to himself. Curling his legs under him in his seat, he propped his chin up in his palm and stared out the window. It wasn’t much of a view, mostly just dark clouds, but it didn’t matter. He barely saw them anyway.
The only way Reginald Chambers could have a holding cell in his home was through his connections with UPAC, or because Whitley’s own father had built it for him. Since he’d never heard of Jude or his psychotic dad, he was leaning toward the former. That didn’t make him feel any better, though.

He’d discovered how to mute a paranormal’s power by accident, but after that, it hadn’t taken him long to realize the potential of the information. Now, something he’d designed to help keep people safe from the most savage of their kind was being used as a prison for an innocent kid.

He didn’t know what the elders had done before the invention of the cells—maybe sedation? Of course he’d needed capital to get his idea up and running, and that’s when he’d made the mistake of going to his father. He should have known that something was up when his dad agreed without hesitation, question, or reservation.

Even at the age of sixteen, he should have known better, but he’d so desperately wanted his family’s approval, he hadn’t stop to think through the consequences. Before the first cell was even completed or tested, Seymour had sold the idea to UPAC. Whitley didn’t know how much his father had signed the contract for, but the only money he saw out of it was what his father paid him to keep quiet and continuing drawing up new designs and upgrades for the holding cells.

Dragging himself out of his chair, he left his sleeping mate to go rummage through the galley. After his depressing trip down memory lane, he could really use a pick-me-up. Although he’d dismissed the flight crew before departure, he hoped they had remembered to stock his favorite chocolates.

* * * *

Jude wasn’t feeling very happy with himself as he slid into the backseat of the SUV waiting for them at the airport. It seemed to be a
common reoccurrence when he was in Whitley’s presence. The man was nothing like he’d expected him to be, and guilt settled into his gut like a lead weight at what he was doing to his mate.

It was too late to turn back now, but he promised himself that once Carter was safe, he’d make it up to Whitley. He wasn’t sure how he’d accomplish it, but he’d find a way.

“Welcome home, Jude,” his driver said with a cheery smile. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thank you, Arman.” Jude gave the man a genuine smile and turned in his seat, waving a hand to indicate Whitley. “This is my mate, Whitley Turner. Whit, this is Arman. He’s part of my dad’s staff and a good friend.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Arman.” Whitley smiled and dipped his head before settling back and buckling his seat belt.

“Likewise, Mr. Turner.” Arman spoke cordially, but Jude didn’t think he missed the trace of distrust in his voice. He didn’t like it, but he understood. Outsiders usually spelled trouble.

If Whitley noticed the less-than-warm welcome, he gave no indication of it. He just leaned his head against the headrest, folded his hands in his lap, and closed his eyes. The man had to be exhausted. The last time he’d really slept was the night before leaving Scotland. That was pushing twenty-four hours awake, though.

“What’s going on at home, Arman?”

“Well, your dad is pissed, that’s for sure. I don’t know what the hell you two tangled about at the gathering, but he came home with a chip on his shoulder. He’s been stomping around the place, snarling at anyone who gets in his way. We’ve been doing what we can to distract him from Carter, but I don’t know how much longer it will work. He’s already fired Judith.”

Jude dropped his head and groaned. None of it was his fault, and yet
everything
was his fault. He should have never left. Three days he’d been gone, and already things were going to shit. Defying his
father and accepting Whitley as his mate probably hadn’t helped things any, either.

“What’s his schedule for tomorrow?”

Arman knew exactly what he was asking for, which made things a hell of a lot easier. “He has dinner reservations for seven o’clock. I have strict instruction to pick him up precisely at seven forty.” That didn’t leave them much time to get in, get Carter, and get out. “Where are his reservations?”

“The Clover.”

Less than a ten minute drive, so that gave them just under an hour.

“Whit, how long will it take you to get the cell open?” Whitley’s brow scrunched, but he didn’t open his eyes. “I’d have to see the setup first. I’d guess no more than twenty minutes, though.” Jude sighed in relief. They could do this. “We need a car,” he mumbled more to himself than anyone else. His pickup was still parked in the garage, but his father would surely notice its absence.

They could use it once they had Carter, but they needed a way to get to the house in the first place.

“Can’t we just get a cab?” Whitley asked, finally opening his eyes and sitting up a little straighter.

“Uh, yeah, I guess we could.” It didn’t seem very cloak-and-dagger. Who the hell took a cab to a rescue mission?

“I have an alternative,” Arman said over his shoulder.

“I’m all ears,” Jude responded.

“You could stay in the pool house. Your father was pretty well hammered when I left. It took three of the staff to get him up to his room. He’ll never know you’re there.”

“Exactly what was your plan if he hadn’t been falling down drunk?” Jude hadn’t thought it out very well when he’d called Cara and asked to have a car meet them at the airstrip.

“He always goes to bed drunk,” Arman countered.

Jude couldn’t refute that, so he just chuckled and shook his head.

“Okay, then the pool house it is.”
Whitley looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just pressed his lips together and went back to staring out the window. With so many different thoughts floating around his head, Jude didn’t pay it much attention. If the man had something to add to the conversation, he’d eventually spit it out. Otherwise, it wasn’t any help, and therefore, any use to him.

His mate turned to him again, opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. He did it twice more, and Jude found it damn distracting. “If you have something to say, just spit out.”

“What about guards?”

“There aren’t any guards.”

Whitley tilted his head to the side and frowned, but didn’t say anything else. The behavior was beginning to grate at Jude’s nerves.

He needed Whitley, though. Growling at the man and pissing him off wasn’t going to earn him any favors.

The next few miles went by in a tense silence, and Jude was starting to feel suffocated in the confinement of the vehicle. He just had to hold it together for a while longer. It would all be over soon.

Then he just had to focus on what came next.

He couldn’t leave the staff to take the fall for Carter’s disappearance. He was going to have to come clean with Whitley eventually as well. Not one thing he’d said had been a lie, but there was a whole lot he wasn’t telling. Number one on that list being that they weren’t going back to Virginia once this was finished.

Jude felt like the scum of the planet for keeping things from Whitley, but there wasn’t any way around it. Carter was counting on him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t risk to keep his brother safe.

Chapter Seven

“You looked like you had something to say in the car.” Whitley bit his lip and stared at the blank television. They had all of the blinds and curtains closed, and only one lamp burning. He understood the need to keep a low profile, but it made him nervous.

“Whit?”

Oh, he’d had plenty to say inside the SUV, and he still did. He just didn’t know if he
should
say it. There were several things that weren’t adding up with Jude’s story, but maybe he was just being paranoid. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d jumped to conclusions only to find out that he’d been completely wrong about the situation.

Jude sighed and flopped down on the sofa beside him. “Just tell me whatever it is you want to say.”